


Jean

by apetypething



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apetypething/pseuds/apetypething
Summary: Bringing someone home





	Jean

she stumbled out of the car with a quick "Thank you," Before she dusted off her dress with scarred hands. He didn't say anything. Just got out of the driver's side, and closed the door behind him. She didn't hear a click, so he probably didn't close the door all the way. The car was old, and the doors were harder than hell to shut. You really had to slam them to get them to click, and he just didn't feel like slamming doors. Especially at night, outside of her house where her parents were most likely asleep. Or pretending to sleep. As soon as she walked in the door they would probably be at the bottom of the stairs. Arms folded, faces stern. They'd tear into her like a couple of wolves on a lamb. She knew that. So did he. The least he could do was get the door for her, so she wouldn't be alone if they were really waiting.  
They ascended the wooden steps lined in little potted plants. Not hand in hand, but shoulder to shoulder. Awkwardly. He had his hands in his pockets, and his eyes casted at his shoes. He was afraid he'd miss a step and stumble. She turned to him, and she smiled. "Thank you, again." He still didn't say anything for a while, just looked the other way and shrugged her off. "It was nothin, really. You needed a ride home. I was around." They both hesitated. The longer they waited, the louder the sound of crickets chirping got. A couple moths flew in front of his face. He finally looked at her.  
"It was shitty how your date left you like that." He sounded almost resentful. "Harry McHennrey is a total fuck." He added, awkwardly tapping his toe on the ground. Nobody liked Harry. Not even she liked him, but when he asked her if she wanted to go to a party- fuck. She was so desperate. Too desperate. Too desperate for friends. For love. For someone to notice her that wasn't her parents. When he brought up how much of an ass Harry was, and she was reminded of how much she hated him, she felt like she was starting to swell up in the chest. Her face got hot, and he regretted ever bringing Harry up. He started to open his mouth to apologize.  
She grabbed his face. Ran a thumb across his cheek to wipe off a little bit of dirt, but only ended up smearing it.   
She never really looked at him before, but in the flickering porch light above them, he seemed very attractive to her. He had short, scruffy brown hair. It stuck up everywhere, like he didn't brush it, or he just woke up. She thought it was cute. His eyebrows were thick and dark too. Raised in surprise over a pair of wide blue eyes. They didn't shine like diamonds or anything special like that. They weren't deep pools or oceans, they were just blue eyes with pupils, like most normal boys eyes. He had a little bit of stubble on his chin, and a bandaid on his cheek. Along with that was a small white scar under his left eye. He had a pointy nose, sort of crooked looking with a bump in the bridge, like it had been broken before. His left ear had a cut in it, too. He seemed like he got in fights a lot. Or just hurt. He didn't seem like the type to fight. He was tall, skinny, awkward. He never looked anyone in the eye, let alone cause any sort of a disturbance that would make someone want to hurt him. But here he was, staring into Her eyes. Albeit out of surprise, he was still looking at her. Finally.  
She leaned forward, standing up on her toes now. Her eyes wandered his face again, as if there was a detail she forgot. His lips were still slightly parted in shock. a little red. They looked soft. warm. Hell, his whole body was warm. He practically radiated a soft heat, and it felt very safe to her. She wanted to take him upstairs to her bedroom. Not to do anything, just to sleep. To hug and lie down and sleep.   
He was about to comment on how close she was getting, maybe crack a joke about how she was close enough to kiss him. She silenced anything he thought he was going to say, though. Their lips connected, and she regretted it almost instantly.  
God, his mouth tasted sour. Not a citrusy sour like lemon or lime, but the souring decay of a corpse. He tasted dirty. Regret regret. She thought of it, but she didn't pull away from him. It tasted gross. but it felt right at the moment. How stupid.   
A moment passed and she realized she could feel him put a hand on her waist.  
It was just a gentle kiss on the lips at first. It was supposed to be quick, but now their faces were practically smushed together. She could feel him breathing on her, and he could feel her fingers in his hair and his heart pounding in his chest, moving from a lump in his throat to a knot down in his gut, back and forth.  
She untangled her fingers from his hair, and slid them down the back of his neck, down to where her arms were just dangling off his shoulders. It felt like a sheet of ice cut into his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. She pulled away from the kiss, and his head seemed to follow; the tip of his nose was almost touching hers.   
There were no words for a while, just them staring in pure disbelief, or dread. A million different emotions shot between them in a matter of seconds. She had a small freckle under her bottom lip. Her glossy, peach pink lips. She had the cutest little nose, and large brown doe eyes. Her hair was dark brown, darker than his. She had it up in a bun, almost completely unraveled by that nights journey. He didn't comment on it, though. Just let out a shaky sigh. He hoped the waver in his voice would be mistaken for shivering. The air was chilly.   
She scanned him over the same time he did her. All the little things she liked about him before, everything she thought was cute was ugly now. His unruly hair just looked unclean. He looked unclean. His dull, dead, blue eyes. His crooked nose and all the cuts on his face and his one split ear. He was a miserable sight. He cut into her. Everything about him prodded her. Poked her. The stubble on his chin that he just needed to shave off. The chapped skin on his bloody red lips. Poked. Prodded. Made her mad. She almost wanted to hurt him. He didn't look safe. He looked weird. He looked like someone who turned girls like her into shoes, and dresses and things. But he brought her home. He walked her to her door. He was going to open the door for her if she hadn't done anything.   
"I've got to go." She told him quickly. "It's late, I should be asleep."  
"Oh. Right. I forgot." he stammered. "Me too."  
She already opened the door as he started talking though. It made him feel all weird again. Ignored. She walked in as fast as she could, and he watched her.   
"I'll see you-" he spoke as fast as he could, knowing she was going fast. Hell, he even leaned to the side to see her through the crack of the door as she started to close it. All he spied were her eyes. The split second glimpse he got of them shot icy bullets into his chest. Warm brown eyes spitting daggers of ice cold at him. She didn't have to say anything for him to know she never wanted to see him again.   
"Later." He lingered on the porch for a second, waiting for the lump of hot misery in his throat to finally crawl back down and settle in his belly. When he settled, he stepped back down the steps of the porch the same way he walked up them. Hands in his pockets, eyes on his shoes. He made his way back to his car. He climbed in, and slammed the door.


End file.
